


Alive

by idkimoutofideas



Series: Emotions are hard [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Connor has some PTSD about almost shooting Markus, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Whump, connor still needs a hug, could be read as connor/markus, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 08:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15167144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkimoutofideas/pseuds/idkimoutofideas
Summary: Forcing himself to talk to Markus is harder than Connor expects it to be, but he has to explain what happened.





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place the day after the first part. While reading the first part isn't necessary, it would explain a couple things in here.  
> This might be a little OOC, writing Markus is a lot harder than writing Hank imo

Connor didn’t want to do this. He _really_ didn’t want to do this. But it wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter. A little under two hours ago, Hank had all but thrown Connor out of the house and told him not to come back until he had talked to Markus.

Markus had already sent Connor a message last night, asking if he was ok after what happened in New Jericho. Connor responded that he was fine, but that they needed to talk. The revolutionary leader didn’t seem surprised to hear that at all, so he had sent Connor an address, and now Connor was only a few blocks away. 

As he walked, Connor kept fumbling with the coin that Hank had given him earlier in the morning. It wouldn’t move through his fingers as smoothly as it usually did, and it kept catching on his hands. It wasn’t until he dropped it that Connor realized he was shaking. He stooped down to pick up the coin and stowed it in his pocket before continuing. 

**STRESS LEVELS AT 36%**

Connor had only been a deviant for a few days, and he had already experienced so many emotions, from happiness and joy to sadness and anger. Connor found that he even enjoyed _disliking_ things, simply because it meant that he had an opinion. Anxiety, however, Connor could do without. 

**_Anxiety; adj_**  
**1\. Distress or uneasiness of mind caused by fear of danger or misfortune.**  
**2\. Earnest or tense desire; eagerness.  
**3\. A state of apprehension or uneasiness.****

When he deviated, Connor hadn’t realized how stressful daily life could be. Before, Connor had talked volatile deviants down from self destruction and didn’t even flinch at it, and now he was dreading simply having a conversation with another android. If Connor was still a machine, he would’ve had no trouble talking to Markus, but then he wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place. 

**STRESS LEVELS AT 40%**

Connor blinked, and realized he was standing at the base of a driveway that led to a huge mansion. When Markus had given Connor the address, he had immediately looked it up, so he knew that it was the home of Carl Manfred, the famous painter. Markus had mentioned Carl before, briefly, only to talk about how the man had become his adopted father. Walking up to the door, Connor briefly touched the quarter in his pocket before ringing the bell. 

A moment passed, and the door swung open by itself. _‘Meet me in the studio’_ The message from Markus reached him. Quickly, Connor scanned the room, and followed the faint traces of paint through the door ahead of him. In the next room, Connor had to pause to look around. The room itself was huge, but it had so many things in it that it still felt lived in, unlike all the CyberLife buildings with their pristine walls and empty hallways. There were paintings scattered around the room, and a stuffed giraffe in the corner by a staircase to nowhere. Connor noted that the door by the giraffe had several smears of paint, and he steeled himself before going over to it. 

**STRESS LEVELS AT 45%**

The door opened by itself as Connor approached it, and he hesitantly entered the next room. The first thing Connor noticed when he walked in the room was how easy it would be for someone to shoot Markus through the huge windows that made up two of the walls. The second thing he noticed was how many paintings there were. Dozens of paintings leaned up against the walls, and there were a dozen more blank canvases in the corner. 

****

“Connor,” his attention was drawn to the center of the room, where Markus was standing by an older man in a wheelchair who Connor assumed could only be Carl. Both of them were holding paint brushes, and paint covered both of their hands, though Markus also had a smear of green across his face. 

“Hello Markus.” Connor greeted him. Markus smiled and gestured to the man next to him. 

“Connor, meet Carl. Carl, this is Connor.” Markus introduced the two of them before placing all the brushes on a nearby table. 

“Markus has told me a lot about you, Connor.” Carl said as he wheeled over to Connor. Connor looked at the man and found that he couldn’t get himself to speak. 

“All good things, right Dad?” Markus saved Connor from having to talk as he walked up to stand beside Carl again. 

“Yes, of course.” Carl replied, still looking at Connor. His gaze was intense, almost as if he was looking into Connor’s core, and Connor found that he couldn’t look away. 

**STRESS LEVELS AT 52%**

Carl frowned slightly, before breaking eye contact and turning to look at Markus. “Markus, would you mind getting me a cup of tea?” Carl asked. With the stare broken, Connor took a slight step back and looked around the studio. 

“Of course,” Markus replied. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Connor as he exited, leaving Connor alone with Carl. His eyes fell to a painting leaning against the wall right next to the door, and Connor stepped closer to get a better look at it. 

It had a light blue background, and depicted two hands reaching out for each other. A human hand, reaching up out of the darkness that surrounded it, and an android hand, reaching down out of the light, ready to pull the human up. 

**STRESS LEVELS AT 43%**

“Captivating, isn’t it?” Connor startled slightly, and looked to his right to see Carl sitting there, looking at the painting. 

“It’s beautiful.” Connor replied simply. 

**_Beauty; noun_**  
**1\. The quality or aggregate of qualities in a person or thing that gives pleasure to the senses  
**2\. A particularly graceful, ornamental, or excellent quality****

While Connor wasn’t exactly sure what beauty was, the painting did stir something in his chest that felt similar to what he had felt the night before on Hank’s couch. 

“It’s called Hope. It was the first painting Markus ever made. Before…” Carl trailed off, lost in thought. Suddenly he turned and fixed Connor with another look. “Markus told me what you did.” Carl said, and Connor shifted uncomfortably as he looked back to the painting. There were a lot of things Markus could’ve told Carl, like how Connor had tried to kill him, or that it was Connor’s fault the humans made it to Jericho. Suddenly, Connor was aware that he had the quarter out again and was flipping it between his fingers. 

**STRESS LEVELS AT 49%**

“He told me how you freed thousands of androids from the CyberLife Tower, and how you were a big part of the reason why President Warren withdrew the army.” Carl continued. 

“I didn’t…” Connor started, unsure of what he wanted to say. “Markus is the reason we won.” He finally got out. 

“Maybe,” Carl acknowledged, “but it helped that you had his back.” The memory of pointing a gun at Markus’s back resurfaced, and he fought to keep himself in the present, holding the coin tighter in his hand. 

**STRESS LEVELS AT 55%**

“Don’t sell yourself short just because of few mistakes.” Carl said suddenly, fixing Connor with another intense stare. He opened his mouth to speak, wanting to say something about how there was a difference between a few mistakes and trying to kill someone, but before he could say anything, Markus reentered the room with a steaming cup of tea. 

“Here you go, Dad.” Markus handed the cup to Carl, who placed it in the holder on the arm of his wheelchair. 

“Thank you, Markus.” Carl said, and Markus smiled at him. “I should be going.” With that, Carl wheeled himself out of the studio, and Connor watched him go. 

“What do you think?” Markus asked, stepping up to stand next to Connor. 

“He certainly is… interesting.” Connor replied. Markus let out a laugh, and Connor looked back at him, confused. 

“What do you think about the painting?” Markus clarified, and Connor’s attention turned to the painting in front of them. 

“It’s beautiful.” Connor repeated what he had said to Carl. Markus smiled at him before clasping his hands behind his back and turning to Connor. 

“But you didn’t come here to talk about my paintings.” Markus looked at Connor expectantly. Connor looked at Markus, fully intending to explain everything, but found that he couldn’t get the words out, and he forced himself to look away. 

**STRESS LEVELS AT 60%**

“Connor?” Markus asked, concern lacing his voice. “Is something wrong?” 

“No,” Connor replied quickly, “I mean- yes. But… no.” Connor struggled to find the words, and found himself flipping the coin through his fingers again. Markus waited patiently as Connor forced himself to calm down and focus on the feeling of the coin in his hands. He had practiced what he was going to say on the walk over, but found it much harder to say in person. 

“I came to warn you,” Connor started, “I don’t think it’s safe for me to be around you for extended periods of time.” He explained, still unable to look Markus in the eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Markus asked, tilting his head slightly. 

“When I was still a CyberLife agent, I would interact with a specialized interfaced in my mind palace. I would report to an AI representation of Elijah Kamski’s teacher, Amanda. She acted as an intermediary between myself and CyberLife.” Connor paused, thinking over how he wanted to explain what happened next. 

**STRESS LEVELS AT 67%**

“After we won, and you were giving your speech on the makeshift stage, Amanda forced me into the interface and trapped me there, taking control of my body.” Connor felt felt the panic rising as he continued. “I barely made it out of there, and when I did, I found myself aiming a gun at your back.” Connor could feel Markus staring at him, judging him, and he distantly acknowledged that he had stopped flipping the coin and was now just clutching it in his grasp. 

**STRESS LEVELS AT 74%**

“I stopped it before anything happened, but I…” Connor felt his throat stick, but he forced himself to continue. “I almost shot you.” Connor finished quietly. For a moment he could’ve sworn he was stuck back in the Zen Garden, wind and snow whipping around him, but as he clenched his fist tighter, he could feel both the coin and his fingernails biting into his skin, bringing him back to the present. Connor bowed his head, expecting Markus to attack him or yell at him to leave. Instead, Markus grabbed Connor’s hands with one of his own, forcing Connor to stop digging his nails into his palms, and placed the other on Connor’s shoulders. They stayed there for a moment in silence, Markus giving Connor a moment to calm down. 

**STRESS LEVELS AT 62%**

“It’s okay Connor,” Markus said gently, “I know.” Connor’s head snapped up, and he looked at Markus, cocking his head ever so slightly. 

“You… knew?” Connor asked. 

“Yes.” Markus replied. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I knew you would bring it up when you were ready, and I didn’t want to rush you.” Connor continued to stare at Markus in confusion, mouth open slightly and head tilted to the side. Markus let out a soft laugh, and gently shook his head. 

“I trust you Connor.” Markus stated simply. 

“I almost killed you.” Connor reiterated, maybe Markus didn’t understand what he was trying to say. 

“Almost doing something is not the same as doing something.” Markus countered. “You stopped yourself before you did it, that takes a lot of willpower.” Markus continued. “People make mistakes all the time. It’s part of being alive.” 

“I’m not…” but Connor found he couldn’t finish the sentence, instead choosing to look away from Markus again. 

“Hey,” Markus squeezed Connor’s shoulder gently, and he looked back up at Markus. “You are alive.” 

**_Alive, adj_**  
**1\. Having life; living; existing; not dead or lifeless.**

**Author's Note:**

> If you were wondering, I chose to go with the Humanity-Hope painting as Markus's first piece.


End file.
